


One Day Forever

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, Humor, M/M, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-10-28
Updated: 2000-10-28
Packaged: 2018-11-10 16:14:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11130264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: A day Ray Kowalski will never forget...





	One Day Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

"One Day Forever" by Deanna

"One Day Forever" by Deanna  
Pairing: Kowalski/Volpe  
Rating: NC-17  
Feedback: Yes, please. Thank you kindly!  
  
Author's email:  
Author's website: http://members.tripod.com/~no1_CRUSH   
  
One Day Forever   
(by Deanna)   
  
  
__

I'm gonna tell you a story.

I guess you could call it funny. But to me... at least sometimes, when I think too hard about it... it's also kinda sad. And that's probably the saddest thing about it - I have to pretend like it never happened.

Anyway... I guess telling it might be some kind of therapy.

It happened just before I met Fraser - that's my Mountie without who (or 'whom' as he'd say) I wouldn't know what to do anymore. He's all the things I've always needed but could never have, ya know?

I smile like an idiot everytime I think of him, but it's like that. He's good for me. And in some crazy, wild and wacky way, I think I'm good for him too. 

But, as I was saying - this was before I even met Fraser, so let's skip back a few months...

* * *

I arrive at the 27th precinct and it's my first day as Ray Vecchio. Weirdest thing - I go to bed as Stanley Raymond Kowalski and get up as Ray Vecchio. Anyway, you know all about that, right? 

So there I am, getting acquainted with my new cop buddies. I also find out I now have a sister, which really fucks up asking the cute little Civilian Aid I saw on my way in on a date. 

Then, there's my new boss - Lt. Harding Welsh. You'll meet him again a bit later. He's kind of a regular, and one who has to be experienced to be believed. 

Welsh is the one who tells me I'll get to meet my partner soon - a Mountie who's at that point on holiday in the frozen wilds of Canada. Once I'm done laughing - and Welsh is pretty patient about that - he says he'll give me the file on the guy so we can get acquainted. Seems a bit one-sided, but anyway... Before he gets around to that, all hell breaks lose.

Huey and Dewey - fuck me, who got those two together? Anyway, these two wacko cops come runnin' into Welsh's office, yapping something about a tip they just got. Big drug deal going down a few blocks away. 

We all start hauling ass and I somehow get there first. From what I already know, I can't imagine I'd like that pompous Vecchio character I'm sitting in for, but his car's like a rocket. So I wind up in front of Tony's Pizza Parlor with the rest of the 27th hot on my heels. 

We run right through the place, guns drawn, yelling over the heads of the accountants and bankers having lunch there. Bang bang bang! 

Then, out through the kitchen and into the backyard where a couple of the local hoods and one of the bigger Chicago hard guys (ya gotta love that one!) are swapping powder for chowder. 

I'm yelling at the top of my lungs, waving my piece in the air, and this big bald guy starts runnin'. I'm after him like a flash, not just 'cause I gotta bust his ass but also 'cause from that one glimpse, I think I wouldn't mind his ass anyway. 

He's fast, but I'm faster. I get him half a block away and jump him, knocking him over into a fruit stand. 

The guy whose day's product... um, produce? Anyway, we just fucked it up, and he's yellin' like someone's pulling off his nails one by one. 

I'm grinning down at my perp, who looks kinda tasty in that pile of peaches and plums. Nice contrast to that milk chocolate skin.

He's staring up at me kinda sinister, but I don't back down. So now he's snarling, just a little. 

What a mouth! He's got eyes like a teddybear, too, which is kinda weird for a gangster, but then this is no ordinary perp here - he's gorgeous! Big, bald and beautiful. Eyelashes any woman I've ever met would kill for.

Before I lose it and ask him out on a date, I remind myself to start rattling off his rights. His silver earrings are flashing in the sunlight and he's suddenly all pli... um... compliant, holding up his big hands for me to slap the cuffs on and smiling at me like we're doin' something kinky. I wish he'd quit before I get a hard-on. 

Fruit guy's still muttering something but more quiet, 'cause I've told him the Chicago P.D. is gonna be buying up his wasted fruit. He watches me as I haul up my prize by the sleeve of his leather jacket. Nice jacket - business must be goin' good. 

We're off. He's coming along, not resisting or anything as I take him back to my car. Looks like only one of the dealers is missing, so the rest of my new cop buddies got lucky too. Although I'm guessin' I'm the luckiest of the lot. 

"Do I get to ride with you?" my perp asks, giving me a down and dirty grin. Guess I shoulda figured that his voice would be like melted chocolate.

I shrug, like I'm gonna fool him into thinkin' he's not messing with my dick. "Me or them," I say, pointing out the Duck Boys, Huey and Dewey. 

He looks back and forth between us like it's a big decision. Then he nods a little, his big, dark eyes narrowing. "I'll take you then."

"Right." Right. He'll take me. Yeah, okay. Works for me. Hood of the car good for ya? Personally, I think the backseat's more comfortable. 

"We going or what?" he says, like he's suddenly in a hurry. I'm guessin' I look like I got caught with my hand down my pants, 'cause he barks out a little laugh.

I open the back door of the Riv and as he's getting in, I push his head through under the frame, giving him a playful little whack on it. 

He's lookin' up at me from the seat, his beautiful mouth curling into a smile that's making my knees feel like jello. "Aren't you supposed to tell me your name... *officer*?" he says. 

"Nah, see that's not a hard and fast rule." And I slam the door in his face before walking around and getting in on the other side. 

Once I'm behind the wheel, I take a peek in the mirror. He's looking almost disappointed, which makes me feel like a million bucks. "Detective Vecchio," I say, and he nods, grinning. 

"Andreas Volpe." 

Wow! Caught myself a big fish here. Still, almost a shame he'll be put away for a while. "I'm taking you to the 27th precinct." 

He's almost laughing. "Yeah, I figured we weren't going to your place, Vecchio." 

Nothing besides your stomach doing a samba should feel like your stomach doing a samba. So I'm guessin' that's what's happening. Grinning, I tell him, "Don't have any of the bars and cuffs and restraints at home, so... nope." 

Nice to know he's not beyond having his smugness tossed back in his face. I'm sure I'm seeing a flicker in his eyes. Oh yeah. I got him with that one. 

"No private collection, Detective?" 

Maybe it's him who's got me. "For me to know, for you to..." Fuck! 

He makes a little smacking sound with his luscious lips. 

I start the car and pull out, giving the rear-view mirror a whack so it spins a little. Now he can't see my face. Pretty sure the color isn't too good right then. 

Good work, Kowalski. Day one, and you're on your way to blowing Vecchio's cover 'cause you wanna blow a perp. 

"So..." he goes in the backseat. 

And I realize that the sound of his voice isn't bad at all, even without the visuals. "Yeah? What?" 

"What am I being charged with, *Detective* Vecchio?" 

I snort. "Unless you were swapping baking ingredients back there, I'd say that's pretty clear." 

He's chuckling. "What if we were?"

I turn the mirror back the right way - not good to drive like that anyway. I glance at him and he's looking almost serious. 

He's also lounging in the seat like he's tryin' out a new sofa. I can't help grinning. 

"Nice car," he says. "Yours?" 

Why the fuck would he ask me that? I'm driving it. Why wouldn't it be mine? Except, of course, it's Vecchio's. Who I'm not. "Sure it's mine," I say, cringing. 

"Doesn't seem right for you." 

"Oh yeah? Why's that?" I'm getting a little defensive now. What, I'm not good enough for Vecchio's stupid pimp car?

He's smiling and I'm halfway back to pacified already. "It's pretentious. I'd figure you for driving something cooler." 

Okay, now I'm grinning. This guy butters my muffin big-time. And suddenly, I realize how I'd love to have him lounging in *my* GTO. 

"I'm actually thinking of getting rid of it," I tell him. 

"Good." 

And glancing at the mirror, I see him looking at me. I look back at him. He smiles. I smile. And then I just about drive into the deli on the corner of Jenkins and Hobart Street.

Swerving around, I realize it's high time I got my badge unpinned from my dick. "Almost there," I tell him, trying to catch my breath. "Then you get to tell the whole precinct about that recipe of yours."

"Sure." And he chuckles again. 

* * *

Once Volpe's booked, finger-printed and stuck into one of the interrogation rooms, Welsh calls me into his office. 

"Gotta go talk to Volpe," I start, way too eager.

"Yeah, yeah, Vecchio. Close the door." 

I do it and stand there, waiting. 

Welsh is shuffling to his desk-chair. "Look, we gotta let Volpe go."

I'm frowning. "Why's that, boss?"

"Sugar." 

He wants me to call him 'sugar'? "Huh?" I know I'm just about shrieking. 

Welsh sighs and plops down behind his desk, leaning back and swiveling around a little. "They were dealing *sugar*, Vecchio."

My jaw drops - I can actually hear it snapping from where it's supposed to stay fixed. And then, I'm just about cracking up. I know I am, and I know that Welsh thinks I've lost it, but I can't help it. 

"Wanna let me in on the joke here, Vecchio?"

I'm wiping at my eyes. "Volpe told me something like that." 

"He did, did he?" He's frowning. "Yeah, well, I get the feeling we got taken for a ride. The real deal's been happening someplace else and someone figured it funny to tell Dewey about this one."

"It is, actually," I say, backing off when he glares at me. "Yeah, okay. Sorry. So... you want me to cut 'em loose?"

"Dewey got rid of the kids. They were so scared, they damn near pissed themselves. As for Volpe... yeah, gonna have to let him go, too." 

Welsh is thinking about something. "He doesn't know yet that we got it worked out. If you think you can convince Volpe into telling you anything..."

I'm grinning. "I'll give it a try." 

Welsh snorts. "Be my guest. If you get anything out of him besides his grandmother's recipe for blueberry waffles, you can have my job and my desk." 

"Right. Got yerself a deal, boss." 

"Vecchio!" he barks just before I'm out of the room. "The moment he wants to go, you gotta let him." 

I nod and I'm off.

* * *

Before I go back to talk to Volpe, I hang out in the next room for a bit, watching him through the one-way mirror. 

Unbelievable. This guy is as cool as they come. He's sitting in that tiny, uncomfortable chair the same way he was sitting in the Riv before. Not a care in the world. Guess he wouldn't have, dealing in sugar. 

I snort, and for a moment, I think he actually heard me, which is technically not possible. 

His huge black eyes are looking right at me and I'm standing there like I'm hypnotized. Can't move. The guy has a way of frying me to the spot, and I'm not sure I like the way he just *knows* I'm standing there, watching him. 

Christ! He's smiling now, still right at me. He's not grinning full out, that wouldn't be his style. His smile is... I don't know, something like a fat cat that's just been licking cream. 

Licking cream...

I whack myself against the side of my head. Maybe I should let one of the Duck Boys do this one. But I know I don't wanna. *I* wanna do him. And I know that's exactly *why* someone else ought'a...

But Stanley Raymond Kowalski AKA Ray Vecchio has a way of letting his dick fuck with his brain, if that's anatomically possible. 

Okay. Okay. Gotta go in there. Gotta grill the perp. Gotta get him the fuck out of the station and myself to the can for a private moment.

Okay. I can do this. 

And I'm off, all psyched up to start with the going in there part. 

* * *

"Volpe." I close the door behind me and walk across to him. 

He's grinning at me, his eyes following me around the room 'til I get to the table in front of him and lean back against it. 

"Vecchio." So smug. So 'I'm-only-here-cause-I-have-nowhere-else-to-be-just-now'... 

"How about you go ahead and spill." I cringe. 

And he's smiling even more. "Spill what, Detective?"

"How'd you get to those kids?"

"What am I being charged with?" 

Okay. He wants to play that way. We'll play that way. 

"Nothing for now. And if you help me out here, you're not gonna be. Now, how did you know those kids and who set up your meet?"

Volpe... Andreas Volpe, big-league Chicago tough guy... mingles with the worst of 'em and got on the bad side of most at some point. He's casually laying back in his chair. His legs are spread and his big hands are on his thighs. And he's still grinning. 

This guy is cool enough to freeze the Ice Queen in her tracks, not that I knew about her back then. Anyway, he doesn't even have the decency to look like someone who just got busted; ya know - arms crossed, kinda jittery, sweating bullets? And why would he? He's got nothing to worry about and he knows it. He's got time on his hands. 

All I got is a bag of sugar. 

I turn around quickly, not exactly wanting him to get a look at my grinning face. 

"Vecchio." 

"Yeah?" 

"How about a coffee?" 

"Good idea. I'm all over that." And I turn to walk out of the room. He's looking at the window like he's forgotten I'm still there. But I know he hasn't. The corner of his mouth is twitching like he's trying hard not to laugh.

* * *

When I get back with the coffee, he's leaning forward, his arms on the table, his fingers tapping out a rhythm. 

I put down the mug in front of him and sit down with my own. 

He has some and screws up his face. "You drink this shit every day?" 

I know just what he means. This stuff can only pose as coffee on another planet where they don't know any better. "Espresso machine's broken down," I tell him, and he's grinning. 

I grin back.

"So..." 

"So." 

"You wouldn't be keeping me here for nothing, would you, Detective?" 

"No idea what you mean."

He tilts his head, looking at me. I mean, *really* looking at me. Like he's examining me. He starts at the top of my head and goes down as far as he can see across the table, down to my hands, back up. Guess he's happy with the examination, 'cause he smirks. 

"Yeah, you do. See, my guess is that you already tested the stuff you found on those kids. But you figured that *me here* is too good a chance to pass up, so you decided to see if I don't help you out."

No big surprise here. Didn't really expect him to turn out stupid. 

"So, are you gonna?" I smile at him. Okay, okay... so I'm flirting now. Can't help it. It's the only card I got left to play, and I've been told that smile isn't too bad.

Volpe pushes away his coffee, leaning back again. "Why would I wanna do that?"

"Service to the community?" I offer, shrugging. 

He chuckles. It's infectious. His whole face lights up and he goes from cool to warm in a second. 

Problem is - so do I. 

"You're gonna have to do better than that, Detective." Now he's all challenge. Like he's trying to figure out how far he can push me. He hasn't asked to go yet, so I guess I might as well keep trying. 

"What kind of deal are you lookin' for?" 

His lips curl up into a smile. "Police protection." 

"You need protection?" 

He nods, and I can't figure out if he's having me on or if he's serious. "I will do if you want me to tell you where the real deal went down." 

I'm starting to plan my move into Welsh's office already. Lieutenant Kowalski... like the sound of that. Hang on... it'll be Lieutenant Vecchio for a while. Shit! I'm getting that Vecchio guy a promotion on my first day? Life's a bitch!

"How about it?" Volpe asks. 

"Yeah, okay. I can do that."

"Knew you could." And he starts telling me about a new guy from Denver who's some kind of paranoid nutter. Everytime he does a deal, he sets up another one someplace else in town to throw the cops off the scent. 

"And you're just gonna hand us this guy?" 

He shrugs. "He's a fucking idiot. He's also trying to get himself set up in Chicago, and I don't need him here." 

Right. Territory. 

Then, I realize something. "That tip-off came from you." 

I get the biggest grin yet. "Damn clever, Detective."

And that's when I realize - Andreas Volpe is a lot more than just downright fuckable. 

* * *

"Okay, this thing is gonna go down tonight." Welsh gets busy as soon as I tell him what Volpe told me. He starts yelling around the office, gathers up the Duck Boys, gets Frannie to bring him coffee and generally forgets about me.

"Uh... how's about that office of yours, Boss?" I ask as he pushes past me. 

He looks at me, and I grin. 

"You want my office, Vecchio?"

"Uh, yeah. We had a deal, remember? Oh, and don't forget about the promotion." 

He's squinting at me. "Why is it that you get up my nose worse in one day than Vecchio did in a couple of years?"

I beam at him. "My irresistible charm?"

"Yeah, that must be it. But don't push your luck, Vecchio. Once the Mountie gets back here, you'll start going all polite like the rest of us." 

Ya gotta laugh at that. It's too ridiculous. 

"Oh, and Vecchio?" 

"Yeah?" 

"What's the deal with Volpe?"

For a moment, I don't know what he means. I actually get worried. "Huh?"

"What are we *offering*?" Welsh says extra slow.

"Oh, right." I scratch the back of my neck. "He wants protection." 

Welsh is frowning at me. He thinks about this for a moment. "Looks like you've got your work cut out for you, Vecchio." 

Oh, fuck no! "Me?"

"He sings like a canary around you. Might as well try and see if he's always that way." 

Okay. There's nothing I can say to that. "Right. I just thought I'd be there when you go in, ya know?"

Welsh looks at me. I guess he's turning it over in his head. After all, I'm the one who got him the info. 

"Okay. You can hang out there with us, and bring Volpe along. But you don't go in. Once we know it's not a trap and the guy... what's his name?"

"Morrow. Jasper Morrow."

"Right. Once we know he's there and he has the stash, we're in. You and Volpe are out." 

Okay. So that's that. I get to keep hanging out with Volpe and my UST (that's unresolved sexual tension, if that's not something that bugs you much!) until after the bust is over. 

Better go home for a cold shower and to change into some loose pants. 

* * *

That evening, we're all hanging out by Morrow's place. He's got this villa near the lake and it's just like James Mason's house in "North by Northwest". Except, he doesn't have Mount Rushmore under his balcony, which is fine with me. 

"I can do without sliding down Lincoln's nose tonight."

I don't realize I said that out loud until I hear Volpe chuckling next to me. "What?" 

I'm grinning. "Long story." 

We're parked with the back of my GTO in the bushes. The front's hidden by a few branches, the fact that it's close to midnight, and the almost total lack of moon. Volpe is sitting next to me, in the front of the car. 

This is kinda good. But it's also kinda freaky. Reminds me too much of date night back in high school. Parked in the bushes in my dad's car, making out with Stella. 

I turn my head to look at Volpe. He ain't Stella, that's for sure. 

And Stella never would have said something like 'much more like it' and given me one hell of a smile when I showed up in the GTO instead of the Riv.

When Volpe faces me, 'cause I guess a guy realizes he's getting stared at after a while, he's smiling again. 

Guess it would be best if I said something. Anything to cover up the fact that I was just staring for the sake of staring. But it doesn't seem to matter, 'cause he's not asking for an explanation.

My phone goes off and it's Welsh. "We're going in, Vecchio. As soon as I give the word, you take Volpe away from here."

"Right. Where to?" 

"Disneyland. Jesus, Vecchio!" He sighs and I chuckle. "Take him to the other place." 

I grin, 'cause Welsh was telling me about 'the other place' earlier \- a little dive of a motel the guys use to hole up with perps in transfer.

Welsh is still talking. "We got Miller there - he's gonna take him to a safe house 'til this blows over."

"Right. I'm on it. Oh, and... have fun, Boss." He's grumbling but I switch off the phone and put it down on my thigh. 

Now, all we can do is wait. We can't really see the house all that good, but that's okay, 'cause it also means no one can see us from the house.

I hear Volpe take a breath like he's about to say something, so I look over at him. 

"I guess you're itching to be up there?" 

That's kind of a surprise. "I don't have to be." 

He leans his head back against the seat and closes his eyes, looking downright peaceful for a guy who just rented out another guy. "Why'd you become a cop, Vecchio?" 

Funny. "Why d'ya become a criminal?" 

A low, warm chuckle... I love this guy's laugh. "The hours are good."

"And I bet the pay's not bad either."

"I'm doing okay." 

Yeah, I can see that. We couldn't legally hold him at the station earlier, so we had to let him go home and he got some stuff - which is now in my boot. And he got changed, too. 

He's wearing black jeans and the same black leather jacket from earlier, but his shirt's now a deep purple and once in a while, the moonlight gets caught in a silver chain 'round his neck. Same thing with the earrings. That glimpse of silver is eye-catching, especially since his skin is almost black in the near dark and sets it off like a velvet backdrop. 

Okay, Kowalski, or rather Vecchio. Don't go down that road, 'cause any moment now, you're gonna notice that the guy smells way too fucking good - leather, spice, some kind of herbs. Don't breathe too deep, Vecchio. You inhale, and you're lost.

"Why did you become a cop, Vecchio?" Volpe repeats.

That's right. I never answered him before. "Wasn't my number one choice, but that got fucked up 'cause of an injury," I explain, suddenly realizing that this is way too personal to be discussing with a perp. 

"What would that have been?"

Not one to shut up just because my brain tells me I should, I tell him. "I was planning on being a dancer. Well, that was before I wanted to be a boxer."

He turns and looks at me. For a moment, I'm expecting him to grin or make some dumb remark, but then I realize that I already know him better than that. 

"Sucks shit, doesn't it?" he says.

"That about sums it up." Yep. I was right about him. 

"But you're a good cop." 

I have to say I haven't heard that one from a perp before. But he's not done surprising me. 

"I'm willing to bet you don't mind taking a few side routes, or a shortcut if it helps."

I raise my eyebrows at him. But he's still going. 

"But do you take a side trip if it takes you along the edge of a cliff, Detective?"

I give this some thought. No, really. As much as I can manage, anyway, because my head's not really that together just then. Hasn't been all day and that spicy cologne of his isn't helping one bit.

Volpe is talking again. And his eyes are moving all over me, up and down, up and down. I'm getting edgy, but I gotta pay attention here. 

"What if it was a scenic route?" he says smoothly.

My heart is pounding against my ribs - I'm not sure if it's what he's saying or how he's looking at me. "We're not talking about Niagara Falls, are we?" I say, knowing this isn't one of my cooler moments.

He smiles. "No, we're not." 

I lick my lips. What the fuck am I doing here... Where am I going?

"Do you ever speed, Detective?" 

I'm chuckling now, probably a case of nerves. "I'm having a Double Indemnity moment here, Volpe." 

His eyes sparkle with a suppressed grin, and I know he understands. "I've got all the insurance cover I need." 

Hysterical. "No one you want me to bump off for ya?" 

"If I want to get rid of someone, I do it myself." 

For a moment... just *one* moment... I get this ice-cold feeling that maybe, I've let half the 27th precinct walk into a big fucking trap. 

And that's when my phone rings. 

I reach for it so fast, it drops into my lap, and before I get my brain around that fact, Volpe reaches over and picks it up, his fingers sliding up the inside of my thigh. And he hands me the phone. 

"Vecchio!" I croak into it, my eyes not letting go off Volpe's. 

"We're in. We got Morrow, we got his stash, everything's secured and you can take you-know-who to you-know-where."

"Great. That's... that's great." It's all I can say. Welsh hangs up and so do I. I'm so fucking relieved I wasn't taken for a ride by Volpe and didn't get my new buddies killed, I'm almost in hysterics. 

And he's next to me, still as calm and cool as ever. "So..." 

I'm grinning like an idiot and I have one hell of an adrenaline rush happening. "It's done. No more Morrow for you. No more... Volpe for me." And that's when I realize that last bit isn't all good. Safer, but not that good. 

I get all serious and so does he. 

"Take the scenic route back to town?" He looks at me with a faint little smile, and it's like he's pleading. 

Go with safe, Kowalski. Take the quick, direct, no-shit cop route. Never mind that teeth-chattering, stomach-curling excitement here. You don't need this.

"Yeah, okay," I hear myself say, and I start the car. We gotta get out of here before Morrow gets brought out and sees Volpe. I'm telling myself that on the way, I'll think about it. More than likely, we'll wind up on the direct route, 'cause that's the one I'm supposed to be taking, right? That's how a cop's supposed to travel... nice and straight. 

And I'm doing okay with this. Really, I am.

At least until about ten minutes later, when I find myself steering the GTO off the main road and down that narrow forest path I found a while back by mistake. And we wind up in one hell of a beautiful spot on the lake front. We're driving past a sign telling us this is Silver Cove, and as soon as we reach the lake, I know why. There's some kind of weird bush growing there which catches the moonlight and reflects it back, just like Volpe's earrings. Never noticed that last time I was there, but then it was daytime and I didn't have this kind of stuff on my mind.

I park the car so we're facing the lake and kill the engine.

When I hear the smooth rustle of expensive leather, I turn my head and watch Volpe wind down the window and let in some nature. 

This place definitely comes together at night. I'm pretty okay with the city usually. Nature isn't my thing. Too many bugs and fresh air. But this... this quiet, sweet silence... a few crickets in that high grass right by the water... and a few waves lapping at the shore. It's kinda beautiful. 

And I realize we haven't been talking since we left Morrow's place. Somehow, us winding up here was like a mutual agreement, so I guess there was no need. 

Volpe snaps off his seat-belt, turns his head and looks at me. He doesn't do anything. Just keeps looking like he's trying to figure me out.

I grin, kinda lost here. And 'cause I've been looking into his eyes, I never noticed that he was reaching over to me until I hear and feel my own seat-belt snapping open. He moves so damn quiet for such a big guy...

I try to readjust myself in the seat, and that's when his hand comes down on my thigh and he shakes his head. 

'Okay,' I nod. 'Okay, never mind.' 

His hand gets heavy, pushing down on my leg and moving up, at the same time pulling my thigh over to the middle of the car so my legs wind up spread wider. 

I'm gulping. That hand is burning through my jeans like they're paper, and I'm thinking that if it winds up on bare skin, I'm gonna be in pain. That thought isn't helping, and I realize that I'm getting real enthusiastic about this. Something Volpe is gonna find out any second now, 'cause his hand is moving up... up... Yeah, right about now.

Oh god, what was that sound he just made... a growl? 

Whatever it was, now I'm doing it, 'cause his hand is on me and he's not even inside my pants, but I'm pushing up and into that hot palm and he's catching me there like he's just been waiting for it. 

Like I have. All day. And I'm so damn close already from all that waiting, I'm getting worried I won't last much longer. 

"Slow down!" I warn him. "There's a speed limit in this state." My voice doesn't even sound like it belongs to me. But it ain't Barbara Stanwyck either.

"How fast was I going, officer?" he throws back at me, and I hear myself snorting. We're getting another nice Film Noir moment going here. 

"Way too fast." And I can't resist. I just can't. "S'pose I give you a ticket?" 

He's leaning in, his hand has stopped moving but it's still there. Right there. And I'm getting so hot, the lines have a harder job coming to me. So I guess they're gonna be all wrong.

"S'pose I tear it up?" he says, his voice way down in the basement.

"S'pose I hit you over the back of your hand with my... gun." 

"S'pose I start crying and put my head on your shoulder?" 

A little squeeze that's making me gasp. I'm gonna take the script off on another tangent here. "S'pose I don't mind that one bit?"

Volpe grins, squeezing harder, and I'm yelping. "Then I s'pose we're in agreement, officer." 

"Oh yeah." 

And he moans a little, grabbing me hard. But then, he lets go all of a sudden, dropping back in his seat. 

Before I get around to thinking he's changed his mind, he's out of the car and leaning on the roof, the door left open. He bangs his hand on the roof a couple of times, and like it's some weird code, I know exactly what it means. 

Grinning, I get out on my side and slam the door shut. 

"So..." he says, looking at me across the roof.

"So?" I raise my hands, letting him know that whatever is happening, I'm game. 

Probably. I think.

"Come here." 

I have a kind of on/off button on my dick. 'This water is fucking freezing' is the off-setting, 'Come here' is the on-setting. 

So I walk around the front of the GTO like I'm in no hurry. And really, I'm not. Sure, Miller might start wondering where we got to, but he doesn't know exactly when we left and I can make up lost time on the way. 

Thing is, I know this is it. This is the only time. And for once in his life, Ray Kowalski, AKA Ray Vecchio, is gonna be patient.

At least that was the idea before I got to Volpe. Who'd have thought that the combo of fresh air and tough city gangster was such a fucking aphrodisiac?

He grabs the front of my jacket and stops me in my tracks so suddenly, my ass hits the hood of the car with a thud. But that's not where he wants me, so he hurls me up and leads me over to the open passenger door, where he dumps me in the seat he just got up from. Nice and warm... 

I know I'm grinning like an idiot, but all of a sudden, this feels kinda right. Especially once he goes down on his knees and parts mine. And then he's in there... his hands are fumbling with my zip, his eyes are on mine, and he's licking his lips. 

I have a feeling I'm about a minute away from coming in my pants, so watching that tongue slide over those fantastically full lips isn't helping me any. 

And then, all of a sudden, I feel a chill hit my dick. Before I get a chance to even shiver, it gets warm again. Warm and wet, and there he is... Volpe... going down on me like I'm the Daily Special on the menu of the best restaurant in town. 

I make some kind of weird sound and my head flops back against the seat. I turn my face, 'cause that way I get to smell that cologne while I feel his tongue lapping at me and his lips moving over me like wet silk. 

He doesn't even pause when he pulls my pants down to just below my ass. His hands slide under me and he lifts me and drags me to the edge of the seat and start really deep-throating me. 

"Stop!" I croak, because if he doesn't, I'm gonna go over the edge. 

He's looking up at me and while his mouth is busy, I see in his eyes that he's grinning. And instead of listening to me, he moves one hand forward and around my balls. And he squeezes. 

"Shit, don't stop!" And I come... come so hard I'm sure I'm gonna choke him.

But he keeps swallowing and sucking, all at once, and I have no idea how he does that. Watching him kneeling there on the ground between my legs, his eyes still locked with mine and his tongue snaking out to clean off any drops that got away, I realize we never even kissed, and it kinda hurts in some weird way.

He looks like he knows something's not right and I quickly put on a grin. "Wow!" I say, and I'm pretty sure he knows I mean it. 

He gets up and stands in front of me for a moment, looking at me like he's tossing something around in his head. Then, he reaches out a hand. 

I don't honestly think I can stand up yet, but hey, might as well give it a try. Okay... I was right. Jello legs. 

I'm grabbing at his sleeves, staggering, and his arms go around me. And here we have suddenly a whole different deal happening. 

He looks like he's gonna say something, but his lips close again. 

I get kinda embarrassed by the look he's giving me, so I grin. He grins back. And then... he pushes me against the car and kisses me.

I don't think I was ever so overdue for a kiss, and my arms go around his broad neck and I push up against him, deciding that I'm gonna ignore that hard-on of his for now while I get a real taste of those lips. And boy, do they taste! Even better than they look. And there's a bit of me on there, too. But I still want more and I open up for him. 

I'd already worked out that Andreas Volpe doesn't fuck around if he wants something, and when I realize he really, really wants my tongue, I'm one happy camper. He gives me a repeat performance of that suck/blow job in my mouth, and I'm hard again, just like that.

His hands are under my jacket and he's pulling up my shirt, which is already more out than in my pants. And I feel his palms, hot on my bare back, one moving up my spine, the other one down to my ass, squeezing, and then right down the center.

I groan into his mouth when I feel a couple of fingers poking at me, like they're trying to figure out if they can get in. I'm moving one of my hands between us now, 'cause I think it's time I got to feel him up a bit, too.

He lets out a little moan when I grab him, and I start rubbing him, not wanting to do anything that's gonna cause him to have to move away from me. 

He doesn't. Actually, he gets closer, and I have a hell of a job to keep hold of that bulge as he pushes me back against the metal. 

And through all this, we're still kissing. No idea what I got all upset about before. I don't know what kind of soul Volpe has, but he kisses like an angel. How far am I gone that a thought like that doesn't crack me up?

But that's when he finally draws back and we both suck in a deep breath. 

My hand's still on him and I keep stroking up and down, giving him my dirtiest grin, while he just kinda sways, his hands on both sides of me against the roof my car, supporting his weight.

He's breathing real hard and looks at me kinda wild, and I figure he's ready for a bit more now. So I open his jeans and slide my hand in, pushing away everything that gets in my way. 

Oh yeah... he's hard. And so goddamn hot. At that exact point in time, I get the stupid idea that we should be swapping first names. Thankfully, Detective Kowalski comes in and sets Goofball Kowalski straight on that point - we gotta keep that shred of distance or else...

Still, I can think of him that way if I wanna, so I watch as Andreas' eyes are closed and he tilts his head so the moon lights up the moisture on his lips. At that moment, he's so darn beautiful. Pure, even. Seems impossible that this same guy has a virtual rap sheet as long as his legs.

I get this stupid idea that I wanna make him purer still, but instead, I go down on my knees in front of him, tugging down his pants far enough so I can get him free.

He's almost whimpering by the time I stop stroking and get to licking at the thick head. Tastes every bit as good as his lips - the luxury version of a dick... smooth, dark, totally delicious. And I draw him against the back of my throat, my hands on his ass while he tries hard not to push forward.

"Vecchio..." 

Fuck this. I want him moaning *my* name, not that other guy's. I let him slip from my mouth and look up. 

He's panting hard, close to the edge. "Shit, why d'you stop?" he whispers. 

"Ray." Okay, okay... I'll regret this one day, but for now, I have to know, have to *feel* he's fucking my mouth, not someone else's. 

He's squinting at me and I get the feeling he's gone through that name thing himself. Probably came up with the same smart solution. Thankfully, he's gonna knock it on its ass too. "Andreas." 

Yeah, I knew that. But I had to get permission. 

He needs a reward after that. So I smile up at him, about to get back to work, but his hands come down on my shoulders and he stops me. And I'm thinkin' I've fucked it all up. 

"Wanna get up?" he says softly. 

"Um... not really." 

We grin at each other goofily, and something about that spark in his eyes convinces me that it's in my best interest to get up. 

He helps me, too. And when we're eye-to-eye again, he reaches around my neck and just holds his hand there, stroking up and down lightly with his thumb. 

There's something too tender in this. Something that makes me wanna throw myself at him and run like hell all at once. We can't be doing this. 

"Ray..." he says, leaning forward.

I think he's about to kiss me, but he turns my face a bit and his lips are at my ear. He blows into it softly and nips at my lobe, and when I'm about to melt into the ground, he whispers something to me. 

I'd have never thought it was possible to be hard as a rock in one place and a mass of goo in another, but guess what?

A thousand thoughts race through my head. But not one of them is 'no'. So all I can do is nod, because there's only a 'yes' or 'no' answer to a question like that. 

I draw back and walk over to the front of the car, and he follows me. If his legs are anywhere near as unstable as mine, this'll never work. But when we get there, and I turn and lean my elbows on the shiny black hood of my GTO, everything is suddenly okay. 

Andreas is behind me, his big, warm hands pushing my jacket and shirt up and my pants down.

I close my eyes, inhaling forest and earth and the warm metallic smell of the still cooling down engine. I hear nothing except an owl or somethin' and the sound of clothes shifting. And I try like hell not to panic 'cause it's been a real long time.

Andreas is pushing my legs apart with his knee. I swallow, and I wait. And I hear him moving and then, I feel hot breath on my bare ass. 

I cross my forearms on the hood and lean my head on them. My eyes are shut tight 'cause I can't see him anyway. But this helps my imagination along, and when I feel his thumbs moving my ass cheeks apart and that breath gets hotter and closer, I hold my breath. 

And then his tongue is in me. Jesus fucking Christ! 

I don't move, but it still feels like I'm floating, like he's this great big wave and I'm riding it. I get harder with every flick of his tongue, and he's flicking a lot, rotating it inside me somehow. 

His hands are pressing down on my ass lightly, and for some bizarre reason, that's every bit as erotic as his tongue inside me. 

I can't stop moaning, but I don't think Andreas minds, 'cause he keeps getting faster, and I'm so damn close, I'm starting to hump the car. 

And that's when he stops.

I bite my tongue to keep from complaining, 'cause I know what's next and I can't wait another goddamn minute for it. 

"Do me!" I growl. 

I hear him chuckling and a moment later, he's tight up against my ass and I feel the pressure... Christ! Was he this big before? 

He's careful, thankfully, but it still hurts like hell when he pushes into me.

"Ow! Jesus!" I'm whining like a girl, but I shut up as soon as I feel his hands on my hips, stroking up and down lightly. Then he moves one hand around to the front and grabs my dick, and it's all the distraction I need. 

He gets such a good rhythm going in front, I forget that it hurts someplace else. And then, it stops hurting anyway and I get ecstasy both ways. 

"Oh yeah... that's it... that's... ungh!" I've never been quiet during this sorta thing, but I'm starting to wish I'd shut up so I could concentrate. 

The just right height of the car, him, me, this position, the fucking moon even... it's all so goddamn perfect, and I push back, trying hard not to pass out when I start panting real bad.

"Fuck, Ray... just don't pass out!"

I hear the words and if I was in any mood to, I'd laugh. "No... oooooh... way... Andreas... harder! Come on! Come *on*!!" 

And he does it. He's pounding into me, his hand letting go of my dick and moving down to squeeze my balls while the other one comes around and goes up my stomach and my chest, scraping past a nipple and back down. 

I'm gasping, seeing stars in front of my eyes, and I'm wishing I'd see him instead. But all I get is more of that cologne as his skin gets hotter and he starts sweating, and a few groans and mumbled words.

"Ray..." 

Finally, a word I know. "Yeah."

But that's all I get out, and I don't think *he* can say anything more, 'cause we're both holding our breaths, just before he comes inside me. 

I join him a few seconds later, my head bent forward, and I'm moaning. God, I've waited for this. All day, if not longer. 

He stops pounding, 'cause there comes a time when you have to, no matter how much you wanna keep going.

I feel a hot, wet trail running down my left leg when he pulls out, and if it was humanly possible, that would make me come again. 

For a few moments, there's nothing but heavy breathing and his warm skin plastered against my ass and the back of my legs, and finally, he turns me over and I fall right back down on the hood, this time with my back on it. 

He's smiling down at me and I grin back, feeling absolutely fantastic. 

"You okay?" he asks, and I'm guessing I look worn out. 

"Never better!" 

He pulls me up and into his arms, and we have a fuzzy moment there. Funny, how okay it is to be fucking like bunnies, but ya hug and it's all weird. 

Still, I don't really care about it being weird, 'cause I'm loving that broad chest and the thumping behind it and how it matches the thumping in mine. 

"We gotta get going," I hear myself say, and the fuzzy moment is gone to hell. 

He sucks in a breath and pulls back, licking his lips. "Yeah," he agrees, and it's fantastic how much he hates saying that. 

"Right." I push my hands against his chest and put some distance between us, before walking around the car, back to my side. 

When I get in, once I'm done getting my clothes back in place, he joins me, looking as cool and stylish as he did when we got here. Except... 

I grin. Something's different. He's not so smug anymore.   
"Ready?" I ask, and he nods. 

I'm about to start the car when he puts a hand on the steering wheel. "Ray?"

Before I'm done turning around, he's pulling me over and starts kissing me like there's no tomorrow. And I guess there isn't, really. 

With that thought, I kiss him back 'til my lips are just about numb and his tongue in my mouth gets close to making me hard again for the third time in... what? Half an hour? Time to stop.

"Ooooookay..." I gasp. "Gotta go *now*!" 

"Yeah." And he leans back in the seat, letting me get on with starting the car and turning it, before we head back down to the main road and to Chicago.

* * *

Andreas doesn't say a word all the way to the motel, and though it's untypical for me, I don't either. Doesn't really seem to be anything to say. 

What could ya normally say? 'Nice. We must do this again some time...' No. No can do. 

I'm not ever gonna start telling myself that it shouldn't have happened, 'cause it was a kind of fate thing. And I don't think he regrets it. I know I don't.

When we get to the carpark, I figure out where Miller's room is, and I park close to it. 

"We're home," I say to Andreas, realizing that he's gonna be out of circulation for a bit. Not that it should make any difference to me. 

He turns and smiles. "Thanks for the ride, Vecchio."

Grinning back, I say, "Pleasure was all mine, Volpe." I pause, thinking I should say something else, no matter how stupid. 

"Try and keep out of trouble. Don't wanna find you in some alleyway." 

He grins. "Not even if I ask you to meet me for another tip?"

"A cop can always use a tip." 

"Thought so."

We get out and I knock on the door of the room. 

Miller opens, complaining that it took us so long. 

"Oh, come on, Miller. A lotta traffic. I'm not risking a speeding ticket." 

He gives me a funny look and says he'll take over from here. Like I don't know.

I go and open the boot, and Andreas stands there, kinda waiting. "So..." he says. 

"So." 

The boot's still up so I know Miller can't see us from inside the room, and that's just as well, 'cause Andreas picks up my hand and kisses the inside of my wrist, before grabbing his bags and turning away, walking to the door. 

And that's when I know I gotta leave real quick. 

* * *

__

Well, that was a waaay longer story than I thought. But it's out now and I'm never repeating it.

And make sure *you* don't, either, 'cause I swear that I will find you and I will kick you in the head!

Me - I'm gonna try and forget. I'm okay with that, except for when I have my meets and get my tips from Volpe. Usually, that knocks me out for a couple of days. 

Rest of the time, I'm cool with it. So I'm gonna just forget and not talk about it again. Have I said that already? Well, I *am*!

Unless... unless Fraser asks me one day how it is that I have unauthorized meets with Andreas Volpe. But that's never gonna come up, is it? 

  
  
The End  
  
If you liked it, please let me know:   
  
  
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